


Ladylike

by StrawberryLane



Series: The roughest crew afloat [2]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: F/M, Gen, Newly married, POV Outsider, Pirate Abigail, Prize, Sea Voyage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 16:09:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11763534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryLane/pseuds/StrawberryLane
Summary: "We ain't got nothing to worry 'bout, gentlemen," Captain Barrow tells his crew. "There's a woman on that ship, gown and all. There ain't no pirate in these water that have women aboard.""Except Jack Rackham, sir," someone shouts from the back of the crowd now assembled by the main mast. "He's got that Bonny lass with him."





	Ladylike

**Author's Note:**

> Another outsider pov because why not.

"Sails!" The shout comes from far above, losing strength in the harsh winds that chase each other across the ocean. By the time it reaches Celia where she's standing on _Queen Anne's_ quarterdeck, it's a wonder she hears it at all. But Captain Barrow certainly does, because he grabs his spyglass and marches away to get a better look at the ship the spotted sails belong to.

Celia Ashwood will be the first to admit she knows nothing about sailing or how ships work. She's got a vague idea now that she's spent a few weeks on Queen Anne, but she's still so very uneducated when it comes to what needs to be done. Not that she needs to worry about that, it's not her place. Her place is to keep out of the way, to let herself and her mother be ferried by the Captain and the crew to their destination of Jamestown, Virginia, where her father awaits their arrival.

Celia would be lying if she said she wasn't at least at little bit apprehensive of seeing her father again; the last time she laid eyes on him she had been ten years old, crying as he boarded the ship that would take him to the colonies and their new life. She still remembers the day vividly, from the way her father had smelt of tobacco to the way her mother had waved a white handkerchief as the ship slowly made it's way out of the harbor.

And now, almost six years later, they are going to join him in Jamestown. The last year in Bristol had been a blurry mess of activities, of mother getting their affairs in order, of Celia finishing school, of attending party upon party, of dining with her father's associates. It had been a year of preparing for change, and now they're finally on their way.

Captain Barrow and his crew are used to ferrying passengers across the North Atlantic and Celia finds she trusts the man. The ocean can be a terrifying place, storms being common place this time of year, but so far they've been lucky.

Celia's mother has so far spent the journey in their cabin, preferring the solitude of the room to joining Celia on deck, surrounded by sailors. Celia, in truth, doesn't mind.

The shouting above her continues, the Captain arguing with his crew about the nature of the ship that is steadily heading towards them. Whatever kind of ship she is, she's catching up.

"She ain't using our wind, sir," one of the crewmen mutters to the Captain as he comes stalking back to the quarterdeck, apparently satisfied.

"We ain't got nothing to worry 'bout, gentlemen," Captain Barrow tells his crew. "There's a woman on that ship, gown and all. There ain't no pirate in these water that have women aboard."

"Except Jack Rackham, sir," someone shouts from the back of the crowd now assembled by the main mast. "He's got that Bonny lass with him."

"Anne Bonny ain't the type to be ladylike, even if it would trick honest merchants," comes another shout from the other side of the group and somehow that is all it takes for the argument to be full blown. Captain Barrow shouts at his crew to cut it out and get back to work, which they eventually do.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that, miss Ashwood." Captain Barrow turns to her, holding out his spyglass. "Would you like to take a look? I know traveling like this must be dull for a lady like yourself, with no company except your mother. Has she taken ill again?"

"Yes, unfortunately. I'm sure a bit of sleep will do her good. Traveling on the Queen Anne is the opposite of dull, sir. I assure you I've never been on such an adventure before."

Captain Barrow smiles at that, showing Celia how to use the spyglass. He stands by her shoulder, looking towards the other ship which is now well on its way of gaining on them. Looking through the spyglass makes Celia feel a bit ill herself, to be honest. Things that were previously so far away are suddenly so much closer. From what she can tell, the other ship is bustling with activity and she soon locates the woman Captain Barrow spoke of. Much like Celia herself, the woman is standing on the quarterdeck, gazing out over the vast sea surrounding them. From afar, she looks like she could be about the same age as Celia.

"Oh, she must be rich," Celia breathes out when she catches sight of the dress the young woman is wearing. It's a deep green color, with lace around the cleavage area. It looks terribly expensive. Celia watches as the woman turns around to greet the giant man climbing up to the quarterdeck, her brown hair blowing in the wind as she turns. The man, who looks much like the men managing the Queen Anne, except for the fact that he's got arms about as big as both of Celia's legs together, stops before the brunette woman, bowing in a way Celia can't help but think of as mockingly. She needn't have worried though; the woman simply laughs as she curtsey's right back. The man leans against the railing, keeping a small measure of distance between himself and the lady. Soon enough, they're joined by a third man. This one has long black hair, as opposed to the first man, who has fair and very short hair. The second man is also missing half a leg. He reaches out to touch the fabric of the woman's skirts and Celia can't help but wonder how and why the crew on the other ship are able to take such liberties with their guests. The crew on the Queen Anne does their best to ignore her; not one of them would even think of touching her dress, however innocent the gesture might be meant.

The woman on the other ship has begun to retreat, disappearing below deck. Celia lowers the spyglass, a bit embarrassed to have used Captain Barrow's tool for such a long time; surely the man has actual use for it instead of humoring Celia.

"Pirates!" This time, the shout doesn't lose strength before it reaches Celia. No, she hears it perfectly clear. She whips around, trying to catch sight of the ship in question, but there is none. The only other ship around is the one with the young woman on. Captain Barrow let's out a stream of words so filthy they would've made the ladies in Lady Gordon's salon faint. He puts the spyglass to his eye and swears some more. "They've raised the black! Gun crews at the ready!"

Suddenly, the flurry of activity aboard the Queen Anne is greater than Celia's ever seen it before and Captain Barrow shouts order upon order. He stops for a moment to address her.

"Miss Ashwood, I think it would be best if you retreated to your cabin for a while. Lock the door and don't open until you hear my signal. I'll knock three times."

Celia has already gathered her skirts when Captain Barrow stops her. "Here," he says, holding out a pistol. "Just in case."

Celia stares after him for a while, the pistol heavy in her hand. She's never even seen one before; not really. The men in her mother's circle back in Bristol rarely had a reason to carry weapons, especially not during dinner parties. The wood is smooth beneath her hand and she can't quite fathom that the thing she's holding is an actual thing of death if used properly. She hopes it won't come to that.

A cannonball tearing through one of the sails brings her out of her own mind.

Right. The cabin. Gathering her shirts again, Celia hurries down the stairs. Her mother is still sleeping; ghostly pale as always. How she doesn't wake up at the commotion above them is beyond Celia. Doing as Captain Barrow told her, she locks the door behind her before taking a seat on her bed, her back against the wall. Holding the pistol in front of her, aimed at the door, Celia settles in for an uneasy wait.

*

It's a longer amount of time than she anticipated, before there's noise outside her door. She can still hear the sound of battle from the deck above her, the sound of _Queen Anne's_ crew screaming and wailing, crying out for mercy. From what Celia can tell, that mercy has not been shown. Her mother had woken up sometime between the pirates first boarding and now, so now they're curled up together on Celia's bed, both of them staring at the door. Someone's trying to get in, and Celia knows it's not Captain Barrow. It simply can't be.

The door gives in soon after that, falling to the floor with a crash that makes Celia jump and her mother scream. The man filling the doorway looks unfamiliar, so Celia raises her pistol and aims, shooting without really thinking. The man yells and falls to the floor, clutching his right leg. While he's swearing in pain, Celia rushes forward to relieve him of his own pistol. He's got a small tattoo of a turtle on his neck, she notices.

It's odd she thinks, standing over him. To her, this man is a monster, a brute and more than likely a murderer. But he's also a man with his own life, a man that chose to have the picture of a turtle tattooed to his neck. To him, taking the Queen Anne is a job, nothing more and nothing less.

Much like with the cannonball earlier during the day, Celia is brought back out of her mind by the sound of noise. This time it isn't a cannon ball, but instead another pirate crashing into their increasingly cramped cabin. This pirate takes one look at the man on the floor and lifts his cutlass above his head, intending to cut Celia down. Distantly Celia hears her mother beg for their lives in the background, but she can't take her eyes of off the way the cutlass is gleaming, already colored red by some unfortunate sailor's blood.

"No!"

At first, Celia thinks it's her mother shouting. But her mother is crouching on the bed, mouth moving in silent prayers, her eyes far, far away. The pirate, obviously thrown by the sudden yell, lowers his cutlass and Celia backs away, out of reach.

Once again, the doorway is filled. This time though, it's not the body of a man. Instead, it's the young woman Celia spent a good while observing through Captain Barrow's spyglass. The young woman is no longer wearing her expensive dress, instead dressed in clothes belonging to a man. Her hair is in a plait and she's holding a cutlass of her own.

"That's enough, Mr Dobbs," she says and she sounds nothing like Celia had thought she would. She sounds authoritative, like she's expecting to be obeyed, no questions asked.

"With all due respect miss...She shot De Groot," the man, Dobbs, says and points at the man still moaning on the floor.

"It's Mrs now, remember," the woman says, almost giddily, and Dobbs rolls his eyes. "Even so," she continues, "I think you should focus on getting Mr De Groot to Mr Howell while he's still conscious."

Again, it's clear that while it's phrased as a suggestion, she's expecting to be obeyed. Dobbs bends down to help the man on the floor, De Groot, up. He's no longer paying any attention to either Celia or her mother and Celia thanks her lucky stars. The woman, pirate as she may be, still seems an infinitely better choice than either of the men.

"Mrs Bones," Dobbs drawls sarcastically as he shoulders past the woman with De Groot in his arms.

"Mr Dobbs," she answers curtly, before turning back to Celia, smiling kindly. "There's no need to be afraid," she tells Celia. "I'll see to it."

"How?" The question is out before Celia can stop it and she clamps a hand over her mouth. Stupid, she thinks. Why'd you have to go talk back to a pirate, never mind that she's a woman?

The other woman's eyes glitter. "Because the captain likes me, the quartermaster likes me even if he doesn't want to admit it and the boatswain loves me. I have all the important men on my side."

"My name is Abigail, by the way. Now come with me. I'm sure Captain Barrow is anxious to know you're alive."

"He's alive? Captain Barrow?" Celia asks as she and her mother makes to follow Abigail to the deck.

"Very much so."

When they reach the stairs, Celia has to stop for a moment to gather her skirts. "Is it comfortable?" she asks, gesturing towards Abigail's attire.

"Very. Best thing I ever did, change my dress for a pair of these," Abigail grabs at her trousers. "Much less fuss."

With the familiar way the other woman is speaking, as if they've known each other for years instead of just meeting, Celia forgets, if only for a moment, the battle that took place on the Queen Anne only minutes ago. Reaching the deck comes as a bit of shock, because of it. There are bodies and debris everywhere, blood all over the floor. Most of the _Queen Anne's_ crew have been gathered by the main mast, intently listening to the one-legged man Celia observed through captain Barrow's spyglass not even hours earlier. He's jumping back and forth before them, leaning against a crutch to keep him from falling over. All the while his mouth is moving. Abigail sneaks past him and Celia and her mother has no choice but to follow.

The man who must be Abigail's captain is standing on the quarterdeck, deep in conversation with the other man Celia observed through the spyglass. The giant. Abigail heads straight for them, coming to a stop to whisper urgently in the ginger man's ear. He bends his head, listening to her, his eyes flickering towards where Celia and her mother are standing. He nods once before striding away, barking orders to his men. Apparently satisfied, Abigail turns to the giant man, looking him over. He's got black streaks of paint on his face, no shirt and thin bleeding line across his stomach.

"'Is fine," Celia hears him say. "I'm all right."

"You should see the other guy," he continues, jokingly, as Abigail frowns. "How about you?"

"I'm fine. Not one scratch," Abigail tells him, sounding proud. They're standing very close, too close, but Celia is still surprised when the man brings a hand up to cradle Abigail's cheek, bringing their faces together in a kiss. It's not a heated passionate one, like the ones Celia's read about in romance novels, but instead a simple, familiar one. It's a kiss filled with relief.

"Bones!" The one-legged man comes hobbling past Celia and her mother, looking at them as he does. "Captain says to cut us lose."

The man kissing Abigail, Bones, turns his attention towards the cripple. "All right. Did you find anyone of interest?"

"I managed to snare us a cook. An actual one this time, don't worry," the other man says, grinning. They walk off together, leaving Abigail with Celia and her mother.

"I guess this is goodbye," says Abigail, mostly to Celia, because Celia's mother is well on her way to fainting from the fright of it all.

"I guess," Celia answers and once again it feels as if they are old friends and not people who met not even hours ago. "Thank you."

"There's nothing to thank me for," Abigail shrugs. "I know what it's like being taken hostage by pirates and I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

With those words, Abigail bids her goodbye. Celia watches as the young woman makes her way towards her own ship, a man of her own crew helping her across the narrow plank. Once the last of the pirate crew are safely back on their own ship, it's fast work and Celia watches as the other ship sails away, Abigail standing on quarterdeck.

"Shouldn't we be able to hit them now? Since they left us alive," a young boy in the back of _Queen Anne's_ crew asks just as Celia joins them where they're still seated around the main mast. Captain Barrow laughs a humorless laugh.

"I don't think that's a good idea, lad," he says. "That was Captain Flint and his crew, nothing good ever comes from attacking them. No, we should thank our lucky stars we're still alive and leave it at that."

 

_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you liked it!


End file.
